


Tiny Angel

by FaunaProductions



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, The Phantom of the Opera (TV 1990)
Genre: get this: cherik but hes a dad, thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26674555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaunaProductions/pseuds/FaunaProductions
Summary: Erik has no idea what he's doing, but he's set his mind to a task, and he won't be swayed.-I just went "hey what if Y/K!Erik had a kid?" so that's the plotcould this have more backstory? yes. could this be more thoroughly explained? also yes. but here's what I have.enjoy!
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Tiny Angel

Erik wasn't sure what to do.

He knew what he held in his hands, yet it seemed impossible and entirely ridiculous.

But here it was, gently wrapped in a blanket, tucked into the crook of his arm.

The child was small—almost too small, he thought briefly, but he really wouldn't know, would he?—and slept peacefully, unaware of the world around it or of the future ahead of it.

She had barely said two sentences to him when she handed the baby off—just that she was his, and her name was Mirabella.

All he had for the girl was the tiny dress she wore—oh, so small! Children at that age were so fragile!—the blanket wrapped around her, and the bottle of just enough milk for her next feeding but certainly not the one after.

He had been sitting still for a very long time, he wasn't sure, really, just that he had not moved nor looked away from the miniature angel in his arms.

That's how Gerard found him, still dressed in his costume from the masquerade ball—if it weren't for the damned annual ball, Erik would not be sitting there with a tiny child in his arms.

"Erik, what have you done?" he asked immediately, staring at the small bundle. "Whose child is that?"

"Mine," Erik replied numbly, finally tearing his eyes away to look up at him. "Mirabella, that's what her mother called her."

Gerard opened and closed his mouth several times, vaguely resembling a very baffled fish, before he finally asked, "And who is her mother?"

"It was last year's masquerade ball," he answered, returning his gaze to the child. "I drank—enough that I was  _ drunk _ , a foolish thing to do—and so had she, and I guess we-" he broke off suddenly, shaking his head. "I don't  _ do _ that, Gerard, I've no interest—it was a momentary lapse in judgement."

"A momentary lapse of judgement should be used to refer to staying up much too late when you must awaken early the next morning," Gerard said, gesturing in bewilderment to the little girl. " _ This _ is not a  _ lapse of judgement _ ."

"Gerard," Erik's eyes were pleading as he looked up at him. "I need help."

He pursed his lips, sighing as he sat beside Erik. "Why do you have her?" he asked, watching the child's tiny hand grip a button on Erik's vest even as she slept peacefully. "What has become of her mother?"

"I don't know, she gave me Mirabella and…" he shrugged very slightly, careful not to jostle the baby. "I assume she will not be returning for the child."

"How do you hope to care for her, Erik?" Gerard's question made the other man flinch and adjust Mirabella in his arms to hold her closer to himself.

"What would you have me do?" he asked, carefully tucking the blanket tighter around the girl. "Leave her on the street? Hand her off to some stranger?"

"She's already  _ been _ handed off to a stranger, Erik," Gerard said, exasperation clear in his voice and on his face. "You don't even know the woman's name, and she gave you her daughter."

" _ My _ daughter," he corrected him softly, "She is my daughter, Gerard."

She stirred, fussing quietly before she yawned and opened her eyes.

Gerard inhaled sharply at the sight of dark brown irises that were almost certainly the same shade as the woman's eyes in the painting hanging in Erik's room—well, one was dark brown, the other a light blue that matched the masked man staring in awe at the tiny face.

"Hello," Erik said softly, adjusting the blanket around her again. "Oh, you are beautiful."

"If a bit mismatched," Gerard said, causing Erik's head to snap up to look at him. "I don't mean anything by it, Erik," he added quickly, "Simply stating a fact, no harm intended."

Erik maintained eye contact for a few more seconds before looking down at the child again. "Gerard, I understand if you do not want to be part of my little girl's life," he said, gently stroking her cheek. "However, you will not take her from me to give away, and I will not abandon her."

Gerard sighed, frowning at the child. She had golden curls, and a sweet face, and she smiled a toothless grin up at a man whose face was hidden behind a mask.

"Fine," he said finally, standing up. "What do you need?"

"She only has the one dress," Erik answered, watching Mirabella reach for him and offering his finger for her to grip. "I will need milk as well, her mother only left a small amount."

Gerard nodded. "I can do that," he looked at the giggling infant once more. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"So do I," Erik muttered as Gerard walked away, leaving him alone with the baby.


End file.
